


Bella Donna

by Cusp_of_Sensitivity



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, Episode: s01e03 Commodities, Episode: s01e06 The Exiles, F/M, Flashbacks, I can't believe he slept with the Queen, Masturbation, Missing Scene, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Revenge Sex, Sex with the Boss, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-10-21 01:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10675290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cusp_of_Sensitivity/pseuds/Cusp_of_Sensitivity
Summary: A bunch of smutty missing scenes involving Milady from the series.





	1. Cardinal

**Author's Note:**

> A missing scene from "Commodities" explaining how Milady went from Paris back to Le Harve at the end of the episode, and why she was missing from episodes 4, 5 and 6.

The morning sun shone through the window of the Cardinal’s office as Milady finished her meeting with her patron. The first part of the meeting had gone well enough. She’d gone to see him after stopping by D’artagnan’s lodgings to see what she could find out about his relationship with Athos, and instead found that she had a rival for the young man’s affections, his landlady Madame Bonacieux. Not that she was concerned. Her powers of seduction were far superior to those of a common merchant’s wife. 

Having sized up her competition, Milady went directly to the Louvre to see the Cardinal. He looked over as she came through the side door she always used when she entered the austerely decorated office. He greeted her in his usual brisk tone, asking how her holiday was, and she knew he had a new assignment for her. Coming quickly to business, the Cardinal told her that she would be going to England, to make contact with the French spy that was in the Duke of Buckingham’s household, as well as the French ambassador, Duchemin. The preparations for her journey had been made, and she would leave immediately to go to Le Harve to sail to Dover on the Persephone under the name Charlotte Backson.

That brought them to the second part of their meeting, where Milady straddled the Cardinal’s lap, her skirts bunched around her waist, and slid his long, thick erection into her pussy as he sat in his chair. Their breathing quickened with the pace of their movements, their moans of pleasure soft and low, neither of them wanting to announce their activity to the guards standing outside the door. Milady used her grip on the back of his chair to adjust the angle of his penetration, exhaling another breathy moan when he brushed her sweet spot, while the Cardinal kissed her throat before moving lower to brush his lips against the shapely breasts barely contained by her corset, his beard teasing her soft flesh. The Cardinal was still between mistresses since Adele’s execution for sleeping with Aramis, and he had been going through a string of young ladies, all of them beautiful but unintelligent, none of whom, in Milady’s opinion, knew how to fuck a cock of his size and stamina. So, it was no surprise that he required her skills to satisfy his libido. 

No, what had surprised her was her own level of horniness. She hadn’t been fucked since before she left on her “holiday”, an excursion to Normandy to burn down the chateau where she had lived with Athos in happier times, so when the Cardinal gave her that look telling her what he wanted, she felt her body release a flood between her legs. She was like an animal in heat as he unfastened his breeches and she lifted her skirts to mount him. His cock slipped easily into her channel, going in to the hilt faster than she expected because she was so incredibly wet. Now, as she moved her hips up and down, grinding on him, Milady reveled in his iron shaft, using it to punish that spot between her thighs that controlled her release, shuddering as her pussy contracted around his unyielding length. She leaned in, her lips just above his, and whispered that she was about to come.

The Cardinal put his hands on her buttocks to take her with him as he rose from the chair. As he moved, the shift of his cock inside her caused Milady to climax, squeezing him demandingly as he laid her down on his desk. With his hands on her breasts, the Cardinal thrust into her harder and faster than before. Milady wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels pressing his buttocks to get him to go deeper, gasping when he complied as a second orgasm rolled through her body on the tremors of the first. She heard the Cardinal’s thick groan as he reached his own release, and felt the hot wetness of his cock ejecting seed into her body.

When he eased himself from her body and refastened his breeches, Milady sat up, letting her skirts fall back down to her ankles. Getting off the desk, Milady picked up her dossier and gave the Cardinal a curtsey that let him see down her bodice, to which he gave her an indulgent smile, and left his office. As she walked down the empty corridor, her body hummed with satisfaction and she thought they really needed to fuck each other more often.


	2. Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Milady returns from abroad at the end of episode six and has a steamy encounter with the Captain of the King's Musketeers.

Treville and Richelieu watched as Marie de Medici, Dowager Queen of France and Navarre, walked away from them toward the doors through which the Red Guard had just brought Vincent, her lieutenant and latest paramour. Even though her back was perfectly straight, made so made by years of good breeding in the ducal court of Tuscany and sitting on the throne of France, she gave the impression of reeling as though she’d been physically punched. Though she tried to fight it, a piteous wail escaped her lips as it sank in that little Henri was gone. Treville and Richelieu would’ve liked to think it was grief at the loss of a grandchild from a dearly loved son, but they both knew Marie better than that. They knew she was mourning loss of the pawn she was going to use to regain her position as Regent of France. They knew it was the pain of seeing power slip through her fingers for a second time that was the real cause of her tears. They gave each other an amused smile as her figure became smaller in the distance.

“You were every bit the gallant,” Richelieu said, turning to Treville. “The bow was a nice touch.”

“And you certainly enjoyed delivering the coup de grace,” Treville replied as they walked in the opposite direction, toward Richelieu’s office. When they reached the office, Richelieu brought out a bottle of grand cru Bordeaux and together they toasted saving the King’s throne from his own mother.

****

Later that night, Treville tossed and turned in the ornate feather bed in the room the Cardinal had given him for the night in the Louvre, not used to the soft bedding after years spent sleeping on army beds. He stared up at the canopy, trying to let his mind quiet to where he could drift off to sleep. He and the Cardinal had gone through several bottles of that excellent Bordeaux, reminiscing about the past, when Richelieu had been a bishop and chamberlain of the Queen’s household, and he had been recently promoted to second in command under his friend de Foix, who had replaced the disgraced Belgarde as head of the royal bodyguards after King Henri’s assassination. De Foix had put him in charge of the Queen Regent’s, and thus the royal family’s, security. Treville had been grateful to his friend for the trust he’d placed in him, well spent for the most part.

The only problem had been in placing a strapping young buck like Treville near an equally young and concupiscent woman like Marie. Over twenty years younger than her husband, Marie had come to France from Italy as a brood mare to continue the newly established Bourbon line, which she did in quick order, producing, officially at least, two boys and three girls, succeeding where her predecessor, Marguerite de Valois, had failed. After her husband’s death, Marie became Regent in accordance with the ancient Salic law, and tried her hand at ruling France in concert with the royal council. And after years of being forced to turned a blind eye to Henri’s numerous infidelities, Marie decided to discreetly take a few lovers. Treville had been one of the first to enter the royal bedchamber and he had enjoyed every minute of it. Having spent so much time with a husband who only paid attention to her when he needed to get her with child, Marie was an eager pupil of erotic activity, her sleek body riding her bodyguard’s cock with an enthusiasm that he’d rarely seen in a woman of her status. The two of them had used every inch of the grand state bed when they fucked, with Treville introducing Marie to positions that enhanced her pleasure and had her muffling her screams as she reached orgasm every time. He would never forget the way her eyes, the color of vintage brandy, looked at his with unashamed lust as she wrapped her lips around his pulsing cockhead, before relaxing her throat to take his full size into her mouth, one of the few women could go down to the base of his shaft without choking. She proved on many occasions that the Italians really were masters of the art of fellatio, sucking Treville’s cock until he sank his fingers into her honey brown hair to hold her head in place as he fucked her mouth, groaning as his seed splashed onto her waiting tongue.

But, as many men over the centuries had found, fucking a royal woman is always an incredibly risky proposition. De Foix warned his friend of the danger he was flirting with in sleeping with the Queen Regent, so when Marie’s eye landed on a handsome chevalier, Treville graciously stepped aside, relieved to have escaped an executioner’s sword, and turned his attention to protecting the young prince Gaston and princesses Christine, Elisabeth, and Henriette Marie, while de Foix took charge of the King. Queen Marie tried to impose her will on the regency council, thinking herself a wise and just ruler, but in truth she was not up to the task of governing France, being capricious and proud, easily swayed by favorites into making stupid mistakes. The council did what they could to mitigate the disasters that seemed to spring up regularly in her wake, reminding themselves that it would only be a few years until Louis reached his majority.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when Louis turned sixteen and the regency ended. Everyone, that is, except Marie. Treville heard about her attempt to replace Louis with his younger brother Gaston from his cell in the Bastille, which Marie had ordered him thrown into three months earlier, blaming him for the death of her chief adviser Concini, a man so corrupt and unpopular that he’d been stabbed to death by the Parisian mob. Never mind that his duty was to protect the royal family, not some arrogant Italian who stole tax money from people who needed it more than he did. But that didn’t matter to Marie. Someone needed to be blamed, and he was the scapegoat. He spent the dreary Parisian winter in the drafty fortress until, one night, the cell door swung open and Richelieu entered, telling him to get up, that he was being released. Not one to be told something twice, Treville followed him down the corridors while Richelieu explained that he had switched his loyalty over to Louis when the King came of age, and now they both needed to move quickly to keep the King on his throne. Leaving the keep, Treville saw that a saddled horse was waiting for him. Richelieu told him to ride as fast as possible to the Abbey in Monmartre, where the royal children had been spirited to, while Richelieu returned to the Tuileries to advise Louis on how to fend off the Queen Regent’s forces. Marie’s coup failed, and she was banished on pain of execution to Compiegne.

Treville never saw Marie again until she’d shown up at the King’s hunting party, claiming that her life was in danger. Knowing Marie as he did, Treville wasn’t surprised that someone wanted to do away with her and when, on the ride back to the palace, she said he was escorting her to her death, he told her not to expect sympathy from him. He sent Athos and Porthos to examine the scene of the ambush that surprised the party moments later and they reported back that it was a hoax. It didn’t take long to discover her plot to replace Louis with her infant grandson, Henri, with herself as Regent once again. Fortunately, the Musketeers devised a ruse to fake the baby’s death, thus depriving Marie of her right to rule, and spirited the mother and child out of France.

Treville gazed at the fire crackling in the fireplace, warming the room as heavy rain from the late-night storm battered the window. The episode of Marie’s return had stirred up old memories of younger days, and he could feel his body responding to remembered pleasures of the past. He reached down between his legs, fingers curling around his thickening shaft, while his other hand cupped and squeezed his testes. In his mind’s eye, he could see Marie at the height of her youth and beauty, her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders, her naked body gleaming in the firelight. His hand moved up the length of his cock, his thumb pressing the swelling head as he pictured Marie moving over him, the nipples of her pert breasts hardened into little pebbles. He stroked faster, his grip squeezing and tugging as his hips flexed, watching as Marie straddled him, preparing to take him into the pussy he knew would be completely drenched. His testes tightened in anticipation.

The sound of someone moving around the room brought Treville out of his fantasy. Years of training took over and he sat up as his eyes scanned the room to locate the intruder.

“Who’s there?” he demanded, and a moment later a beautiful woman, with dark hair and green eyes, stepped into the firelight. “What are you doing here?”

“The Cardinal sent me,” Milady told him, opening her ermine robe and letting it fall to the floor to reveal her bare flesh. Her lips curled into a sensual feline smile as she watched Treville rake his eyes over her curvaceous body, going first to her plump breasts with their darkened nipples, then her tapered waist, then ending with her lush hips and creamy thighs.

“What’s your name?” Treville asked, silently thanking the Cardinal for sending this exquisite creature to him.

“Charlotte,” Milady said easily, using her most recent alias.

Treville threw back the covers to reveal the empty space next to him on the soft feather bed. Milady padded silently over to the bed, her eyes going to the long, extra thick cock curving up from his lower belly, the shiny wet crown smiling up at her, sending a rush of heat between her thighs. Getting in next to him, she brushed her full lips against his in a blatantly erotic kiss while her hand went straight to his erect shaft to give it two firm pumps. Treville rolled her onto her back, his lips going to her swanlike neck.

“Captain,” Milady said breathlessly as he teased the delicate skin.

“Jean,” he corrected her, bending lower to set his teeth to her hardened nipple.

Milady arched her back as he sucked hard on her breast before giving its twin the same treatment. Her stomach quivered as he trailed light kisses down her belly, spreading her legs far apart so he could settle between them. His tongue circled her slit until a honeyed flood came rushing out, and he lapped it like a tomcat with fresh cream.

“ _Oh, yes, Jean,_ ” Milady moaned, lifting her hips and pushing his head down so he could pleasure her better. Sinking back against the pillows, she let Treville’s tongue take her to a place she hadn’t visited in a distressingly long time. Her time in England had been a mixed bag of goods. Professionally, things had gone extremely well: her meeting with Duchemin had been informative, the ambassador giving her a detailed report of the situation between King Charles, the Duke of Buckingham, and Parliament, along with his reflections on all the players involved in the drama. She, in turn gave Duchemin the dossier with the Cardinal’s instructions and what changes were being made in French foreign policy towards England. After visiting the ambassador, she met with her contact in Buckingham’s household, Adam Styles, who was still as committed to her and France’s interests as he was the last time they saw each other.

From a personal viewpoint, however, things had been a complete debacle. It had rained hard every single day she had been there, and English food had kept up its reputation as being utter dreck that was appealing only when one’s other choice was starving. And to make matters worse, English men, even handsome ones like Adam, lacked the skills and finesse to completely satisfy a woman, always finishing before their partner, so Milady spent most of her nights using her hands, and occasionally the dildo she kept packed in her travel valise, to bring herself to orgasm. She was glad when her mission was completed and she could return to Paris.

Milady gasped as Treville sucked on her swollen nub, her eyes rolling back at the delicious tugging on the sensitive flesh. The English rain had followed her all the way to Paris, so she was soaked through when she arrived at the palace to report to the Cardinal. Finding that he had retired for the night, she went up to the bedchamber she always slept in when she stayed late at the Louvre, removing her wet clothes in the antechamber as the clock struck midnight. Opening the door, she was greeted by Treville’s groans as he stroked his cock in bed. Smiling, she closed the door audibly for him to hear, then went over to the firelight, telling him that the Cardinal had sent her, which was close enough to the truth as she frequently seduced men in this room at her employer’s behest.

And getting into bed with Treville was certainly no chore. She had wanted to fuck him for a while, having seen him around the palace as he went about his business and she went about hers. His chiseled good looks had weathered his years very nicely, and she’d heard enough gossip from the court ladies regarding his size and stamina to be sure that riding his cock would be a pleasurable experience. That he was Athos’ commanding officer was simply icing on the cake. Savoring the sight of Treville’s head between her legs, eating her pussy, Milady granted him superiority over her husband in cunnilingus. Athos had never hesitated when it came to going down on her and was very competent at pleasuring her orally, but Treville, with his years of experience, feasted on her cunt, drawing the moans and gasps from her as though he were mining liquid diamonds, and she shivered as his teeth nibbled on her nether lips.

When Treville speared her with his tongue, Milady cried out as she climaxed, her pussy clenching as she found her much needed release. Before her convulsions dimmed, Treville went up on his knees, pulling her legs up and draping the over his shoulders so her lower body was angled up toward him. He thrust his cock into her, groaning thickly as her walls tightened around him and sucked him deep inside. Treville set a forceful rhythm, plunging as far as he could go, his curved shaft letting his rotund cockhead rub against her sweet spot in both directions, and finding new sources of pleasure that Milady didn’t know existed. She quickly reached a second orgasm, and she dimly heard Treville’s triumphant shout as he released his seed, bathing her with milky fluid.

When they came back down from their high, Treville slowly eased out of her sensitized pussy, gently lowering her body back down on the bed. Wiping his sticky cock on her thigh, he lay down next to her and pulled her up against him.

“Christ, you can fuck,” he growled, lowering his head to kiss her deeply.

“Mmm,” Milady purred, lightly pushing his shoulder so he lay back against the pillows, “I think you’ll find that I’m well versed in bedroom tricks.”

Treville watched as she slithered down his body in a reversal of the positions they’d occupied earlier. Milady licked a stripe up his shaft and Treville sank his fingers into her dark strands as her lips closed around the head of his hardening cock.


End file.
